


how to shatter a shell

by allhailthenerdmage



Series: the world's against us, but we're against the world [1]
Category: Sugar Pine 7 RPF, The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: (Like just some blood lol), (Not James tho so), Aleks is in the Russian Mafia, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Brett is crew mom, Crew as Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fake Chop, Fake Pine is a hot mess, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Mild Gore, Past Abuse, Protective Brett, References to Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, ish, obviously, silly boys and their emotions, they need to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhailthenerdmage/pseuds/allhailthenerdmage
Summary: As it turns out, allying with a psychotic branch of Russian mafia is the best decision that Brett has ever made.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all before i went to class on a monday, at like 2 am so all mistakes are my own. Kudos and Comments are really appreciated because I'd like to improve my writing. Enjoy! ^-^

It's too fucking early for this, who calls a gang meeting at 6:30 in the morning? And on a Saturday for God's sake, Brett has the worst fucking timing. 

Grumbling, James gets into his car and makes his way through the early morning traffic. There's barely anyone on the road, early risers and people coming back from night shifts. He bends a few speed limits but manages to get to the warehouse just as Brett starts the meeting, plopping himself down on their couch with a huff.  Joe sits next to him, bright-eyed and smiling as usual, and Trevor's in their barely holding together arm chair, seemingly asleep. Brett claps his hands loudly and offers them a shrug, "I know it's early but I've got news."

He gestures to his new companion, who James hasn't even noticed until now, and gives them the grin. The one that meant either Brett had done something amazing, or fucking insane. Judging from the fact that there is a completely new person standing in the middle of their HQ James puts his money on the latter. 

"We've been offered an alliance," Brett pauses, probably for dramatic effect, "With короли." He glances over at the new guy, probably for help with the pronunciation, James rolls his eyes. 

That seems to wake Trevor up, who blinks up at Brett and frowns. "I think I just woke up from a nightmare, did you say  _ King? _ " When Brett nods, Trevor groans, "Oh Christ."

Brett frowns and crosses his arms, "We're a new crew, we need allies. They're better than nothing!" 

"We have allies!" James argues, "What about the Fakes? Or even Pine? They've always had our backs!"

"Look," Brett sighs, obviously annoyed at losing control of his crew in front of their new guest. "They're a last resort, we have to prove we're worth working with if the Fakes are ever going to give us a real alliance. And Pine is not reliable, King is."

That shuts them up and James waves his hand for Brett to continue talking, still miffed. Their guest looks uninterested by the insubordination, standing with his hands folded politely behind his back and his head pointed at Brett as if waiting for instructions. Though it's impossible to tell where his eyes are, he's wearing sunglasses. Thick, expensive looking ones no less. Who the fuck wears sunglasses inside?

"This is their ambassador, he'll go on a few heists with us and assess our worth to Kings." Brett says this with a fairly calm face but his voice drips with 'don't fuck it up'.

Their 'ambassador' takes that as his que to introduce himself. He gives a short bow and offers a smile, James already hates him, the smile drips with fake excitement and obvious distaste for them. "You can call me Immortal," His voice is colored with a thick Russian accent, "I will participate in the heists if your leader wishes me to, but I will be in contact with my leaders at all times. So any mistakes will be immediately reported."

He talks with little to no emotion, as if rattling off a script in his head, it's a little uncomfortable. Creepy even. James raises a hand and is reminded of elementary school.

"So, what're you good at?" He asks, trying to get a feel for their new comrade.

But Immortal just shrugs a bit, a little emotion but not what James is looking for, "I am proficient in many things. Though marksmanship and close quarters combat are what I excel in."    


James gives him a once over, he doesn't look like much of a fighter. Immortal looks to be around average height and is fairly thin, lacking a lot of the muscle mass that James, Brett, and even Trevor to a point, have built up over the years. But James can also see the outline of a switchblade in his pocket, so he's probably got even more blades hidden on his person. It's more likely that Immortal is good at fighting with knives, not with just brute strength like James. 

In fact, Immortal looks more useful for infiltration than anything else. He's pretty unassuming, pale with bleach blonde hair and designer sunglasses, those types of people are a dime a dozen in Los Santos. And no one would suspect the Cali boy wannabe.

But Brett just smiles, "That's good, we've been on the lookout for a marksman for years now." 

Trevor frowns and opens his mouth to argue, probably to say that Jakob was their sniper, but Brett shoots him a glare and James realizes that he wants them to suck up to him.

Like that would work on one of the fucking Russians, they're legendary for their ability to pick up on bullshit. 

"Of course," Immortal says, "It was good to meet you all, but I was under the impression that there are more of you?" He tilts his head at Brett and James is suddenly reminded of a cat. A smug fucker of a cat, but a cat nonetheless. 

"Oh! Yeah, they're off on recon assignments. Our hacker is busy casing the bank for our heist. And Jakob is assisting him." Brett says, managing to stay calm as he lies straight to their new ally's face. Asher's at his house, sleeping off last night's fun, and Jakob is probably with him to help with the hangover.

Immortal nods, obviously not fully convinced, but he doesn't say anything and offers Brett a hand shake. "I have to get going, but I look forward to working with you."   
With that, he's gone and Brett is left at the mercy of his own crew.

* * *

 

"What. The. Fuck." James growls, standing so he's nearly chest to chest with Brett. To his credit, the taller man stands his ground and crosses his arms. 

"I did what's best for the crew. Y'know, the whole point of being leader?"

"The point of you being leader is so that you'd communicate with us!" James fires back, "Not so you could ally us with one of the most strict and fucking insane crews in Los Santos!"

"They've got resources we don't! We can use the help," Brett gestures in the direction Immortal had left, "Once we don't need them we can just drop them and go our own way. But we needed a kick start, and they can help with that."

"And what happens when they figure out that's we're a fucking mess? What happens when we become a liability to them and they kill us all?"

Brett sighs, "Look, I know what I'm doing. You have to trust me for this to work. All you guys have to do is work with Immortal and do your best."

He drops his arms and places his hands on James' shoulders, the smaller man considering brushing it off but thinking better of it. “ _ Trust _ me. I’m still doing what’s best for the crew, even if it doesn’t make sense yet.” Brett directs the last part at both Trevor and Joe, both of whom look skeptical. But Joe sighs and nods,

“As long as you promise that this is your entire plan and you’re not hiding anything.” James nearly laughs at the look Brett shoots him, they know him too well. But he knows them just as well, and he knows that you don’t break a promise with Joe. So Brett nods and holds his arms up in surrender.

“I swear on James’ life.”

“Dick.” James shoves his shoulder but he’s smiling, “I’m gonna go get some food, anyone wanna tag along?”

Trevor shoots up from the armchair, “Fuck yeah. I’m starved.”

James laughs as Joe agrees to tag along, Brett offering his wallet to pay, condolence food for getting them up at the asscrack of dawn. Meh, James’ll take it. He’s never been one to turn down spending someone else’s money, especially Brett’s. 

Off to get food at 7 in the morning, an adventure not so unfamiliar to the Fake Chop crew. All the while, James can't fight the overwhelming feeling of dread.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next meeting is in the afternoon and Immortal is sitting on the couch with them. James sits at one end of the couch while their new friend occupies the other end, Joe inbetween them looking worried. Trevor has opted to sit on the floor and away from the tension that undoubtedly rolls off of James. Asher and Jakob are in the warehouse too, but Brett set them on surveillance duty, and Anna is out working her day job. Someone has to the respectable citizen. 

Brett comes out of his office hefting a duffle bag over his shoulder, tossing James, Trevor, and Joe a gun from the bag and offering Immortal a smile. “Morning.”

Immortal huffs a reply and actually looks more tired than he did at six thirty in the morning, fucking weirdo. 

James inspects the gun, it's new and expensive, definitely not something Brett would have just lying around. It's a gun meant to be flaunted and is probably meant for the heist itself. 

“Get used to those,” Brett says as he sets the duffle bag down, “Bonuses from our new friends.” Oh, King guns. These fuckers are legendary, James sneaks a glance at Immortal but he hasn’t reacted, or even moved. If James thought it was possible, he’d assume that Immortal is hung over. 

“Alright,” he slams his hands down on the coffee table, hoping to get a response out of Immortal, “What’s the plan?”

“We gotta get ready, new cars, masks, planning escape routes.” Brett shrugs, “The usual really. I’m gonna pair you off ‘cause we only have two things I want to get done today and Asher is busy with Jakob.”

Oh fuck, James hopes that Brett isn't doing what he thinks he's doing. 

“James I want you working with Immortal, visit our normal car dealer and get a few vans.” He turns his attention to James’ new partner, “Immortal I trust you don’t mind being the muscle?”

Goddamnit. James sighs heavily but nods, “We taking my car or-”

“We can take mine,” Immortal interrupts, getting to his feet and offering James a hand up. He doesn’t take it and frowns, which fucking car is his? They don’t have any extra cars in the parking lot as far as he’s seen. 

A fucking Camero, why isn’t he surprised. It's parked a little while away in a pay parking lot, making it harder to steal that way. Immortal opens the doors and gestures for james to get in, a faint smirk on his lips. 

“This must be fucking expensive,” James comments as they pull onto the main street.

Immortal chuckles, “короли has their perks.” His accent grates on James’ nerves, too thick to be real. And if it is real, he’s only been in the states for a few months at most. 

They don’t make much small talk as Immortal follows his directions to the dealer, all of James’ attempts to talk being cut off by short, unhelpful answers from Immortal. Eventually James just stops trying and they drive in relatively uncomfortable silence, getting to the dealer in record time as Immortal bends the speed limits a little too much for James to be comfortable. Fucking show off.

* * *

 

“Nova!” Miles greets him with a grin, pulling him into a brief hug. “Good to see you man.”

“You too Luna,” James can’t help but to smile back, Miles has that effect on people. “We need a few vans.”

“Gotcha!” And with that he’s off, grabbing a few keys from his wall of vehicle keys and tossing them to James, “For the two unmarked black ones in the back, careful though. One has a weird gas peddle, accelerates way too fucking fast.”

“Thanks man.” He seems to finally notice Immortal, frowning slightly. 

“I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Luna.” Miles holds out a hand to shake and to his surprise Immortal takes it and gives him a bright smile, still fake as fuck but a smile nonetheless. Miles seems to take it at face value though and grins.

“Immortal, I’m new.” He says, “Hundar thought I should learn how he does things, and to meet you.” His voice is sweet and calm, accent toned down just enough for James to be suspicious. That fucking accent has to be fake, or at the very least played up for fun. Maybe Immortal isn’t as stuck up as he thought.

“Well, he’s always had good taste in people. Best of luck surviving with these boys,” Miles laughs and offers James a good natured smile. Miles has had to clean up too many of their messes to take them seriously, James loves it. He’s seen them light Trevor on fire, and he’s had to take care of the aftermath of four smoke bombs set off in a closed car. “They’ll have your back, as long as you have theirs.”

“I’ll do my best,” Immortal smiles, tone relaxed even though his hands are tightly clasped behind his back. Interesting.

“Well, it's been great seeing you Luna. But I think Hundar wanted us back as soon as possible, we’ll send First and Jake over to pick them up tonight.” James says, attempting to divert the conversation. Though he makes a note to ask Immortal about it later. 

Miles sees right through his attempt to change the subject but nods anyway and smiles at Immortal, “See you around, Immortal.”

The Russian offers a wave over his shoulder and heads back out to his car, James following with a shake of his head.

He’s not in the car when James gets outside, instead Immortal is standing with his back against the wall of the building, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he lets out a lungful of smoke. Another thing to add to the ‘weird shit Immortal does’ list. The dude hasn’t smelled like smoke both times James has met him, even sitting in the car he didn’t notice anything. Maybe it's a stress thing. 

“So,” James settles against the wall next to him, “Why’d you get all tense when Luna talked about us having your back?” 

Wow, subtle Wilson, jesus. He half expects Immortal to not answer, to just finish his cigarette and get in the car without acknowledging the question. But he sighs, smoke billowing out from his lips distractingly, taking his sunglasses of and turning his eyes to James. 

“I’m not used to people being so  _ honest _ .” He says, frowning slightly. “It's weird.”

James is so taken aback by the seemingly honest answer that he almost doesn’t notice the complete lack of Immortal’s accent. What the fuck? This wasn’t the same Immortal from five minutes ago, the one who had barely talked to James and shut down any attempt at conversation. He seemed like a normal dude, just talking and smoking like any other rando in Los Santos. 

“What do you mean, are they not honest in King?” Immortal laughs, a bitter sound that makes James frown.

“Honesty is weakness,” He mutters in a heavy russian accent, obviously mocking  _ someone _ . “Hundar tells you guys everything, I know what my supervisor thinks I need to know, and he knows what  _ his _ supervisor thinks he needs to know. Only our boss knows everything, and she gets it from a guy in Russia who probably doesn’t even tell her everything.”

“How the fuck do you trust anyone?” James asks, incredulous. You can’t run a crew without trust, how do you know that one guy isn't gonna just fucking snap and kill everyone else for an extra cut?

“You don’t,” Immortal says, like it's obvious, “You survive.”

“Jesus,” James breathes. Immortal gives a matching sigh and takes another drag of his cigarette. “Hey, not that I don’t like that you're talking like a normal human, but why  _ are _ you talking normally? The entire time we drove up here you refused to talk to me and now you’re telling me all about how shit working for King is. What gives?”

In lieu of answering, Immortal pulls his shirt collar down and reveals a microphone. “I’m only allowed to turn it off when I finish my task.”

“Oh,” James frowns, “So they heard me rambling and trying to talk to you like an idiot?”

Immortal laughs, actually _ laughs _ , a high pitched noise that makes his eyes scrunch closed. James is reminded of a cat even more as he tries to get his giggles under control. 

“Yeah,” He says, breathless, “Sorry man. At least you know now?” He phrases it as an apologetic question and James snorts,

“Too late asshole, they already know I’m fucking annoying now.”

“If it's any consolation they heard all of Cube’s dick jokes and when Joe came in and fell on his face.”

“I can live with that,” James chuckles. He checks his watch and groans, “We should head back, Hundar’ll be wondering where we are.”

Immortal nods and puts out his cigarette, “Alright. Just a heads up, I gotta turn the mike back on when we get back to the warehouse.”

“So don’t be a dumbass,” James grins, “Got it.”

Immortal rolls his eyes and unlocks the doors to his car. As he sits in the driver’s seat and starts the car he puts his sunglasses back on and James is reminded of superman and Clark Kent. Without the glasses, Immortal is a pretty okay dude. With them? Not so much. His back straightens and he turns the mike back on, lingering smile gone from his face even though it's only an audio feed. 

James sighs and settles into the passenger seat. Back to square one.

* * *

 

They only spend a little time in the warehouse before Immortal gets a call from his superior and has to leave. James looks after him with a vague feeling of worry, weird considering that just this morning he fucking hated him. 

He goes to give Asher and Jakob keys for the vans and finds them laughing in Asher’s office, Jakob upside down on the couch while Asher flicks through surveillance feeds lazily. They barely notice him come in and James realizes that they’re probably high, or at least pretty buzzed. 

“So,” He stands in the doorway and crosses his arms, imitating Brett to the best of his ability, “This is what we pay you for.”

Jakob yelps and falls off the couch, while Asher just swivels in his chair and shrugs. “Ain’t a whole lot to do right now.”

“Well I’ve got a job for you two,” James tosses Asher the keys as Jakob rights himself, laughing quietly. “Go down to Miles’ and pick up the two black vans.” After a moment of consideration he frowns, “Are you two even good to drive?”  
“I’m fine,” Asher says, “But Jakey over there? Probably not.”

“I’ll be fine, jeez.” Jakob laughs as he sits back down on the couch, “Just give me a minute.”

James laughs and settles against the doorframe, “How’s the surveillance going?”

“Meh,” Asher shrugs, “Same as always. Nothing interesting and pretty regular guard rotations.”

“How’d it go with  _ Immortal? _ ” It's James’ turn to shrug, making Jakob laugh. “What, he too cute for you to not trust him?”

Christ, he'd forgotten how loud and weird Jakob gets when he’s high. James shakes his head, “Nah, he doesn’t talk much so I don’t really have anything to go by.”

“I do,” Jakob says sagely, “Only tv villains wear sunglasses indoors.”

James can only chuckle and shake his head, “I don’t think he’s a tv show villain.”

Jakob shrugs in a ‘whatever you say man’ gesture and pulls out his phone, probably getting Trevor to take him out drinking, while Asher just smiles. “He’s just like everyone else from King.”

“What’d you mean?”

“They’ve had loyalty beat into them, most since they were picked up off the street.” Asher says, “They recruit street kids and condition them, most of ‘em barely have personalities left.”

“Christ,” James frown. They’d heard stories about how fucked up King was but it had never really clicked with him that they were recruiting  _ kids _ . Immortal had probably been living on the street when they picked him up, or worse, he could have been born into it. “And people still work with them? With fucking kids?”

“James, we’re criminals.” Asher shrugs, “Most people in our line of work barely have a working moral compass, if any. We got lucky when Brett recruited us, and even luckier when the syndicate picked us up.”

“I guess,” He sighs, “It's just so fucking weird to think that we’re allying with a group of russian gangsters, that have an army of kids they’ve trained to die for them.”

“Welcome to Los Santos,” Jakob quips from the couch, and James can’t argue with that. 

James shakes his head and clears his throat, “Anyway, can you two get those vans before tomorrow? If you have to, get Trevor to help Jakob. Call Brett as a last resort.”  
“Got it,” They chorus.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Srry this one is so short guys, I'm not sure what happened lol

A few days later James finally manages to get Immortal to come out drinking with them, calling it a bonding exercise. Immortal convinces his superiors that it's in his best interests to get to know the crew he’s working with and leaves the mike at his apartment. He sounds pretty happy when he calls to tell James the news, a stark difference from his personality a few days ago.

Seeing Immortal out of his suit is weird, like seeing Joe without a hat or Trevor without a godawful hawaiian shirt. But he looks a hell of a lot more relaxed in a hoodie and skinny jeans, laughing at Trevor as he chokes on his drink. James likes the way his eyes crinkle when Immortal laughs, and the way he curls in on himself as he giggles. 

And oh fuck Brett is laughing at him.

The older man claps a hand on James’ shoulder, “Don’t get too invested, we’ve still got a heist to pull off.”

“Invested in what?” James rolls his eyes, there’s nothing between him and Immortal but mutual respect, he doesn’t even know his real name for god’s sake. He will admit that Immortal is a good looking guy, but that's as far as he’ll go. Brett just sighs and takes another swig of his beer.

James turns his attention back to Immortal and is surprised to see that he’s actually getting along with Jakob and Trevor pretty well, they seem to share a weirdass sense of humor. Of course, Asher is sitting quietly by Trevor’s side. He smiles at the younger man fondly as he takes sips of his drink, and James feels like he's intruding on a personal moment. Then Trevor turns and grins at Asher, pulling him into a hug that seems to embarrass the blonde. 

Immortal downs his drink with impressive speed and calls for another, promising to pick up the tab with King money as he downs the next drink. None of them are gonna be able to dive tonight, except maybe Brett. He’s only had one beer and seems to be nursing it with the intention of it lasting all night, not unusual considering his ‘crew mom’ status. 

But tonight seems different, not so much his usual tired amusement as worry and anxiety. Tension rolls off of him in waves. It's actually pretty disconcerting to see Brett so worried while they’re out for fun.

With anyone else, James would bug them until they spilled whatever was bugging them, but Brett doesn’t respond to his teasing like everyone else, he’s too used to it and just brushes it off. No, with Brett he has to be sincere. So he is, James sets his drink down and turns away from the spectacle that is their friends and Immortal.

Brett huffs, he knows what James is doing, but sets his beer down anyway and raises an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“You’re all tense and shit,” James shrugs, “What's up?”

“Nothing, just nerves.” Except he's not. Brett is basically his brother at this point, James knows every one of his faces and moods and this is not him dealing with before-job anxiety. Nervous Brett is pacing the warehouse before a job and triple-checking everything when they go out for a deal. This is something else, and it worries James.

If Brett is worried about something, they should all be on edge.

“You realize I can smell your bullshit from a mile away right?” James asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Come on Brett, what’s got you so far up your own ass?”

Brett laughs and James knows he's won. “God, sometimes I forget how annoying you are. Why’d I hire you again?”

“My gorgeous looks,” James rolls his eyes at the deflection.

“Dick,” Brett sighs, “I’m just worried. Maybe you were right about this, about allying with King being a shit idea. I mean, we’re complete opposites and Immortal is probably spying on us when he thinks we aren’t looking. What if you’re right and they’re just gonna cut ties with us after this heist? Or they just get Immortal to kill us all?” He sinks his head into his hands and groans, “What if I get us all killed because I got a little too greedy with new dealers?”

With that it's James’ turn to sigh, because Brett is right. What if? For all he knows, Immortal has been lying to get his sympathy and they’ve already failed King’s test. Or King never planned to ally with them in the first place and is in search of a little extra cash and territory. James suddenly feels guilty for not mentioning Immortal’s microphone to Brett when he found out about it.

But, there’s the other side of it too. The one where everything goes according to plan and they’re all fine, where Immortal is genuine and comes to work with them. It’s all only a matter of time before they find out, and they have no control over it. 

James says as much to Brett and he sighs heavily, running a hand through his messy hair. “I guess, still doesn’t make me less worried though.”

“Just trust us,” James reassures him, “If everything goes to shit, we can handle it. Fakes save each other's asses.”

Brett gives him a smile drenched in gratitude and James returns it. They’ll be fine.

And then Trevor topples off his bar stool.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s just logical really, everything had been going so well, so it only makes sense for things to suddenly go to shit right before they pull of the heist.

Immortal’s supervisor stops by on the monday before they scheduled the heist. The difference is instant and, at least to James, horrifying. They’ve spent so much time with Immortal and he’s relaxed quite a bit, laughing at their shit jokes and even cracking a few of his own. He greets them all by name and is often smiling, posture comfortable and relaxed.

The second his supervisor steps into the warehouse everything changes, Immortal is suddenly sitting perfectly still with his hands folded in his lap. He slips the nearly forgotten sunglasses back over his eyes and they loose him. 

Brett does nearly the same thing, though for a different reason, and slips straight into business mode as the supervisor makes his way through the warehouse.

James hates him, at least Immortal had the decency to try to hide his distaste for their poorly organized desks and the mess of supplies and ammo that occupies one corner of their main room. This bastard, ass tall and imposing as he is, looks like a pampered child coming into contact with poor people for the first time. And while his analogy is a little convoluted, James thinks it fits rather well. 

He and Brett talk a bit and they go their separate ways, the man calling for Immortal while Brett frowns at James. Immortal looks almost scared as they leave, glancing over at James briefly as he's lead away. He looks like an animal about to be slaughtered.

While James feels like a school boy called to the office, Brett crossing his arms and waving him into the room that serves as Brett’s office. 

“What’s up bossman?” James is still pretty cheerful considering Immortal probably won’t be killed, and he knows that Brett won't shoot him unless he's  _ really _ fucked up.

His cheer fizzles and dies in his chest as Brett drags a hand across his face and sighs, “You gotta stop.”

“Stop what?” Now he's actually worried.

“Everything with Immortal,” Brett growls, “I don’t care what your intentions are, but you're fucking this up for  _ everyone _ .”

“You gotta elaborate there, Brett.” James does his best to not get angry just yet, not when he's not even sure what he's done. “‘Cause I have no clue what you mean.”

“ _ Everything _ , James. The flirting, the joking, even fucking talking to him. Just  _ stop _ .”

“I wasn’t eve-”

“That's not the point James!” Brett snaps, making James jump slightly. “You have to stop, leave him alone until the end of this job and  _ never _ speak to him again. Okay?”

“Why? What the fuck did I do?” And yeah, he's fucking mad because who the fuck is Brett to decide who he can and can’t talk to? They may joke about the whole crew mom thing but jesus christ he's not their actual mother. 

“I don’t fucking know okay?!” Brett gestures wildly in the direction that Immortal had been led, “That's what he came to tell me!”

“Who the fuck is he to say I can’t talk to my friend?!”

“The only reason we’re still doing this! We made a deal, you stop fucking around with Immortal and we still do this heist.” Brett sighs and seems to collect himself, “Look, this is for the good of the crew. It's in your best interests  _ and _ his, so just fucking trust me.”

Maybe he should apologize, and any other time he would have, but today James is  _ pissed. _ “Y’know I’m getting really fucking tired of trusting you when you can’t even trust yourself!” It's a low blow and James fucking knows it, but at this point he doesn’t care. He just wants to hurt Brett, make him understand how fucking stupid this whole thing is. How bullshit it is that they’re letting their communication with a crew member, no matter how temporary, be controlled by a gang of child abusers and abductors. 

But he's already fucked up, Brett is  _ mad _ . His face is blank, void of every emotion James has learned to read, and he sighs. “Fuck off James, come back tomorrow. Maybe then you’ll see the bigger picture,” Brett sits at his computer desk and sighs, “And if not I’m sure there's a Fake who could fill in for you.”

Another low blow, just bullshit enough for James to mutter a fuck you under his breath and storm out of the warehouse. Only stopping to grab his keys and jacket, ignoring Joe’s concerned questions.

He speeds all the way home and nearly hits a few people, barely registering it when they jump out of the way and when other cars honk their horns. A few years ago he might have gone out and gotten drunk, or even spend the night looking for a fight, but at this point he just goes back to his apartment and collapses on his couch.

After a few minutes of staring aimlessly at the roof James sighs and picks up his phone, expecting a few texts from Joe or even Trevor. Instead he’s greeted by a slip of paper tucked into his phone case, he's not really sure how he missed it but he takes it out anyway and unfolds it.

Just as his heart rate calms from his fight with Brett, it picks up again, for a completely new reason. The note, written in hurried cursive, is from Immortal. Asking him to meet so that he ‘can explain everything’, and specifying an apartment not far from James’.

The logical part of his brain tells him that this is probably a test and if he does it he could get his entire crew killed, or just himself, but the rest of him craves answers. And if Immortal can give them to him that's just a risk he’ll have to take.

So he gets back in his car and he’s speeding for a different reason.

* * *

 

James has been standing outside the door for a good four minutes, debating whether he should actually go in or not. It doesn’t  _ sound  _ like there’s a group of Russian mafia waiting to murder him, but that's not exactly helpful or reassuring. Finally he gathers himself and knocks on the door, more nervous than he’d like to admit.

Immortal answers the door, looking equal parts surprised and relieved. Without missing a beat, the smaller man ushers him inside and locks the door behind them. He offers James coffee and settles on the couch, wringing his hands nervously.

He says no to the coffee and gives Immortal a once over, he’s got an obvious bruise forming on his cheek and a red mark around his neck but aside from that and the anxiety that seems to thrum through his veins, Immortal looks okay. 

“So, uh. . .” He trails off and frowns slightly, “Are you alright?”

James laughs, incredulous. “Am  _ I _ okay? You’ve got one hell of a black eye coming in and you ask  _ me _ if I’m okay. Jesus, Immortal.”

Immortal mutters something under his breath and James raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Aleks,” He says, louder this time, “My name’s Aleks.”

“Oh, wow. Uh,” James doesn’t know what to say to that. A show of trust like that is hard to come by, especially in their line of work. “Thanks for telling me man.”

It's Aleks’ turn to laugh, quietly and charged with nervous energy. “I figure it’s fair game since I kinda made your crew fall apart.”

He sounds genuinely apologetic, frowning as he toys with his long fingers. James smiles and shakes his head, “We’ll be fine, we alway are.” He shrugs, “Besides, every crew has big fights. We’ve just gotta get over our shit and talk this out.”

“Oh good,” Aleks smiles, more progress, “I was worried.”

“That's enough worrying out of you,” James teases, “It’s my turn, how are you doing?”

He shrugs, hand coming up to touch his eye gingerly. “I’m okay, nothing new.”

“Why do you do that?” Aleks looks confused and James sighs, “Talk about that shit like it's normal.”

“It is though,” He shrugs, “I’m just used to it.”

“That doesn't make it okay, Aleks.” And okay wow, James is angry again, on Aleks’ behalf this time. It's a new feeling, wanting to protect someone  _ this _ bad. James has always felt a bit of protectiveness with Joe, Jakob, Trevor, and Asher, but it's more of a family feeling. Like brothers, only  _ he's _ allowed to fuck with them. But with Aleks it's different, like James would be willing to let the world burn if it would keep him safe. 

“I know,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair. “But that’s not what I want to talk  about now, we don’t have a whole lot of time.” Aleks gives him a sad smile, “We can finish this conversation later.”

In another situation those words would have made James laugh, but now he just frowns and nods. 

“We can’t be seen talking again, I’m getting close to the end of my rope with короли and I’m not sure what’ll happen if I fuck up again. But, after the heist I’m going to try to get out.”

“How?” James asks, it won't be easy to leave a crew like King. Not alive anyway.

“Dunno,” Aleks laughs nervously, “I haven’t gotten to that part of the plan yet. But I’ll be fine.”

“My god, Aleks.” James can’t help the laughter in his voice, part amazement and part anxious energy. 

“Hey, I’m a little frazzled leave me alone.” The smaller man pouts, crossing his arms in mock frustration. “Besides, I doubt you have a plan?”

James sighs and nods, Aleks has him there. “Fine, so we stop talking to each other and hope this all goes according to the not-plan?”

“Pretty much. But,” Aleks pulls a small pad of paper from his hoodie pocket, “I’ll leave you notes to keep you in the know.” When he catches James’ incredulous stare he laughs, “What? They said I couldn’t  _ talk _ to you, didn’t specify notes and shit.”

James chuckles, “I like the way you think.”

“Yeah well, I’m a bit of a genius.” Aleks smiles, basking in the moment, before sighing. “You should go, this isn't my apartment and my supervisor will be back soon.”

Against every instinct in his body, James nods and gets up. He offers Aleks a smile as he opens the door, “Good luck, man.”

“You too, James.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this oh my god

The notes are fairly inconspicuous, tucked in James’ jacket pocket before Aleks heads home, or attached to the labels of drinks left on his desk. They usually just detail the developments of Aleks’ plan to leave King, those he burns soon after reading, but some are silly little messages to James himself. Ranging from ‘have a shit day nerd’ to ‘i actually kind of miss you guys wtf’, James keeps those and sticks them haphazardly around his fridge. It's become a mess of notes from Aleks and little notes that James writes to himself, reminders of the plan and grocery lists. James likes how it looks, the mix of Aleks’ fairly neat handwriting and his own messy script. He almost doesn’t realize how domestic it looks, with grocery lists right next to one of Aleks’ ‘god i miss you guys’ notes. 

Almost.

And he finds that he doesn’t mind, that maybe it has something to do with the feeling he got about Aleks’ black eye. Maybe it's a good feeling, one he should cherish. 

But maybe that's the pre-job buzz speaking, and a handful of shots that Brett had offered in a gesture of peace.

Pulling a heist isn’t something Fake Chop is known for, that’s more AH and Fakehaus’ thing. They usually handle the background shit, drug deals and shaking down competitors and sketchy buyers, a job shared with Fake Pine. So, needless to say, they’re all a bit jittery. And if Brett had been in a better state he probably wouldn’t have offered those shots right before going out on a job. 

But hindsight is 20/20 and they’ve got a job to do. So Brett gives a final warning not to fuck this up, they pile into the two vans. 

James, Joe, and Trevor are dressed as regular citizens so they don't cause panic when going into the bank. Trevor has a bag with three bulletproof vests tucked safely away, if all goes according to plan they won’t even need them. While Brett and Aleks are dressed to the fucking nines, both in suits with vests settled neatly beneath the jackets and carrying a mask each. Asher is watching the cameras while driving one van, and Jakob is on standby with the second van. They’re ready.

Jakob drops them a few blocks away from the bank and they walk, looking right at home on Los Santos’ streets. And they are, Joe grew up on them, Trevor spent a good few years running drugs for small crews, and James used to run with a crew that practically owned them. Sure they each have a pistol tucked away somewhere on their person, who in Los Santos doesn’t? It's the people who  _ don't  _ carry weapons that should be avoided. 

As James’ body goes on autopilot and he walks listlessly to the bank, he obsesses over the plan in his head. All they have to do is get to the bank in the next ten minutes and let Brett and Aleks in the back door, for dramatic effect of course, and from there they would provide cover fire and keep any of the hostages from fighting back. They get to be dramatic and over the top, something Fake Chop has excelled in since it’s conception.

* * *

 

“Wow,” Joe laughs as the back door to the bank just swings open, “I kinda thought it would be more, y’know, complicated.”

“It's Los Santos, I’m surprised there isn't a sign that says ‘totally not bank door, don’t open’.” Trevor snorts as Brett steps through the door, rolling his eyes. 

“Come on dumbasses, let's rob these fuckers blind.”

James goes running out first, Joe and Trevor hot on his heels. From behind them he hears a few shots from Brett’s gun, controlled and just close enough to sound like he's shooting at them. He collapses on the floor of the bank and yells, “There’s someone in the bank! He tried to kill me!”

His companions join in with similar cries, drawing people’s attention away from Aleks and Brett coming in from the exit hallway. They only look back over after Aleks has shot both security guards and of staring down at his handiwork appreciatively, eyes glittering from behind his masquerade mask. 

“Alright everyone,” Brett’s voice carries perfectly with the high ceilings of the bank, “No one else has to die, just hand over everything you’ve got and line up in an orderly fashion.”

The people respond well to his measured tone, frantically throwing wallets in their general direction and scrambling to line up against a wall. James tosses his own wallet in Aleks’ direction and shoots him a quick grin before joining his fellow hostages on the wall.

One of the bank tellers seems to value his life and helps Brett open the vault, even opening some of the deposit boxes for him. Then he comes to sit next to James, who's sitting closest to the window. All three of them had sat separately in the line so as to keep an eye on everyone. 

And maybe James was wrong about the teller valuing his life because the little shit pulls out a gun and aims it at Aleks’ briefly turned back, only missing because James  _ happens _ to shift against him and throws his aim off.

It's enough for Aleks to spin on his heel and plant a bullet straight through the man’s head, smiling grimly and turning to the rest of the line up. “Anyone else want to try?” His accent is back, as thick as ever and James has to physically fight a smile. Ew.

Surprisingly enough, another person seems to have a death wish. This time a younger looking woman rushes Aleks with a knife, actually getting pretty close before he sees fit to cut her down with a knife of his own. The glint of steel in his sleeve is not missed by anyone in the room, and the wicked sharp grin on his lips is a masterpiece all on it's own. 

The guy next to James takes the opportunity to whisper to him, “You got a gun?” He nods. “Good, I doubt he can take two of us. I’ll take his head you take one of his legs.”

“Sure,” James gives him his best serious face and slips his King pistol from his waistband, getting ready. 

They count to five and the guy raises his pistol while James rises to his feet, cocking his pistol before holding it to the man’s skull. “Actually, I’ll take the head.” The gunshot startles most of the lineup and a woman starts crying. The line is cheesy as fuck but Aleks laughs so James considers it a win.

He stretches dramatically as he walks over to Aleks and accepts the fistbump offered to him, reveling in the terror in their hostages eyes. James finally gets why the Fakes and Fakehaus do this shit so often, it's fucking  _ fun _ . 

“Okay, since you all are three people down already and I’m nearly out of patience, I’m going to suggest that you all just cooperate and let us get what we want.” James calls out, “We don’t  _ want _ to kill you all, but if another one of you fuckers try something, we might have to.”

It's a lie, they’re going to have to kill them all anyway. The moment James revealed himself their plan changed, they can’t have an entire bank of people giving his image to the police. So their only other options are to blow the bank and hope for the best, or to shoot each and every hostage they have. It’ll lend itself well the the Fake Syndicate’s reputation for being ruthless, and add some weight behind Fake Chop’s name. 

“You two,” He gestures in Trevor and Joe’s direction with his pistol, “Go help with the money.”

They get up and do as they’re told, Trevor making a show of cowering from James’ gun. He laughs and slaps the younger man upside the head, might as well have some fun before massacring what has to be fifteen people. 

It's only a few minutes before Trevor, Joe, and Brett come out of the vault with four duffle bags full of cash and valuables. James whoops excitedly and turns to their hostages, “See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He lets the smile drop from his face and gives a dramatic sigh, “But, I’m afraid I lied to you guys. You’re all fucked, so I’d say whatever prayers you have to, to whatever god you believe in.”

Panic sets in in record time, people screaming and attempting to run while Aleks and James pick off the runners and people trying to sneak away. They’ve wiped out the entire crowd in record time and share a grin as they run for the backdoor. 

Jakob pulls out of the alley as the crew admires his handiwork, while Asher had been disabling the cameras and watching for cops, Jakob had been painting. A giant version of the Fake Chop logo stares back at them in stylized colors and dripping spray paint. James gives an appreciative whistle and Trevor grins, “Fucking nerd.” Earning him a finger in the rearview mirror.

They drive out of the alley a few minutes after Asher, going the speed limit and being generally inconspicuous as they return to the warehouse. They’ve only got half the money with them and Aleks has seen fit to accompany them back this time, leaving Joe to go with Brett and Asher. Trevor stretches out on one of the benches built into the back of the van, as James and Aleks are sitting together, and groans loudly as he slaps his hands over his eyes. 

“What’s up Trev?” James rolls his eyes and takes the obvious bait.

“I’ve got a headache now,” He glares up at James through his fingers, “‘Cause  _ someone _ hit me in the head.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Trevvy.” James says in a mock baby voice, “D’you want papa James to kiss it better?”

He leans forward, more in threat of a kiss than an actual one, and Trevor yelps loudly. “Fuckin’ ew dude!” And, just as James had hoped, his movement combined with the movement of the van knocks Trevor off of the bench. He rolls a few feet before managing to stand up and pouting at James, “You did that shit on purpose.”

“I dunno what you're talking about, Trevor.” James shrugs, “Immortal, what’d you think?”

Aleks shrugs, “I did not see anything.” He puts on the accent and James giggles,

“See? Nothing happened.”

Trevor pouts again and crosses his arms, “Jakob! They’re bullying me!”

“There will be no bullying in this van,” Comes Jakob’s muffled voice, “Don’t make me turn this vehicle around!”

James and Aleks dissolve into giggles at the taller man’s attempt at a mom voice. It's probably more the anxiety of the job coming crashing down than anything, but James is laughing too hard to really care.

* * *

 

They go out for drinks that night, all still pretty buzzed from the job but ready to have more fun. Aleks comes with them but he’s nearly unrecognizable in a new hoodie and beanie, different sunglasses perched on his nose. He’s hiding, not that he thinks his supervisors are waiting in every bar in Los Santos, but better safe than sorry.

James gets as drunk as he can without trying to start a bar fight and even Brett is pretty gone, they end up calling Anna and Lindsay to come get them when the bar closes. 

Eventually they all end up in the warehouse, splayed out on the couches and a few chairs they had dragged in. They pass around a joint and James basks in the feeling of everything going  _ right _ . Even if it's just this one moment of his life that goes perfectly, James thinks he can live with that. They’ve just pulled off their first heist, everyone’s alive and no one was hurt. All the money is sitting a few feet away from him, serving as Brett’s makeshift pillow, and they’ve just cemented an alliance that will set Fake Chop on the best possible path for the foreseeable future. Asher and Trevor have nodded off on the couch, heads together as the exhaustion of the past few days kicks in, and Jakob is scrolling lazily through his phone. Brett is laying on their haul, vaguely reminding James of a dragon protecting his hoard. And Joe is joking quietly with Brett and Aleks.

And Aleks, he’s  _ with  _ them. Not off working for a dangerous mafia branch, but lying just to his left with a joint in one hand and James’ hands held loosely in the other, smiling a relaxed smile as they chat about nothing and everything all at once. 

Everything’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I really like the idea of Jakob being all arty in this au, he seems like the kinda guy who'd be into spray painting things. (Ignore me, i drafted this all at 5 in the morning right before i left for class lol)


	6. Chapter 6

James is starting to think that his life has a pattern, everything going great until one fucking this just  _ has _ to go wrong. 

Aleks doesn’t come back to the warehouse the next day. He’s only a few hours late when James asks Brett if he’s seen the Russian, but no one has seen him.  _ No one _ . Worried, James shoots Aleks a text, just a simple ‘where are u?”.

He grins when his phone dings with a reply, relieved. Only to have a wave of anxiety come crashing down when he reads the message, ‘the number you are attempting to reach has been disconnected. Please try again.’ What the fuck.

The vague feeling that something is wrong festers in his stomach, blooming into full on panic. Why the fuck has Aleks’ phone been disconnected? And why is he four hours late to meet at the warehouse? Something’s wrong, but James has no fucking clue what it is.

So he asks Asher, the hacker has to know  _ something _ about phones and what this meant, right? Asher just shrugs, “Not sure, he could have just taken the sim card out. Or,” he sighs, “Someone stole his phone.”

“So either way we can’t do anything until we see him?” James frowns, “Fucking great.”

Asher gives him a weird look, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll scan the city cameras for him, how about that? If I see anything, I’ll text you right away.”

“Thanks, man.” James claps a hand on his back, “Maybe he’s just sleeping off the drinks from last night, I could be worried about nothing.”

And he could be, but there’s probably a worse explanation that’ll be true, that’s how Los Santos works. The worst-case scenario is usually the one that comes to pass, no matter how fucking dumb it is. Asher offers a nods, still not looking very convinced by James’ little explanation, and turns to his computer to open up the security feeds he spends hours pouring over on a daily basis. 

James leaves Asher’s office and attempts to get some of his work done, but can't help his mind flitting back to Aleks. So when Joe offers to take them out for lunch James nearly leaps out of his chair, grateful for the distraction.

Brett offers an explanation while they’re out, that maybe King had given up on them and recalled Aleks. Or even that he’d finally gotten too close and they’d ordered Aleks away from him. James can see both being plausible, but hopes Brett is wrong. If they’re going to be watching Aleks closely from now on, it'll be nearly impossible for him to leave King.

For whatever reason, James’ brain accepts these answers and seems to let his worry over Aleks settle down. He gets his work done and bids the crew goodnight, going home and managing to get to sleep pretty easily.

* * *

 

The next morning James comes in later than usual, the morning traffic having been brutal, and finds the entire crew crowded around a box. Even Lindsay and Anna had been called in, so  _ something _ has to be wrong.

Upon Brett seeing him they’re ushered to take a step away from the box and let James see what it is. The box is small and fairly inconspicuous, only marked by a label on the top ‘For James Wilson’. 

“What the fuck?” James glances over at Brett, silently wondering if this was a joke, and the older man shrugs.

“It was on the doorstep when I got here, none of us have opened it yet.”

“Oh good,” James mutters under his breath, “Leave the sketchy ass package for me.”

He takes a deep breath and pulls the top off, half expecting the thing to explode, only to be greeted by a usb drive. It’s not even an ominous looking one, just a simple black usb stick. 

“Well, that was uneventful.” Brett remarks, “We should plug that fucker in a computer.”

Asher nods and takes the drive from James, leading them to his office. He plugs it into one of the older, expendable computers. An old-ass computer that holds nothing more than some useless accounting numbers, and isn't connected to any of the important computers. Surprisingly, it doesn't seem to have a virus on it. Just a video file labeled as ‘warning’, and a document titled ‘location’.

“This is some  _ Taken _ shit,” Trevor mutters. And James has to agree, who the fuck even does this anymore?

With Brett’s permission, Asher opens the file and-

Oh. Oh  _ fuck. _

It's Aleks, beaten and bloody, but  _ Aleks _ . He looks to be zip tied to a chair and barely conscious, head lolling as he attempt to escape from his captor’s grasp, a heavy hand clamped around Aleks’ throat. 

Brett drops a heavy hand on his shoulder and James realizes he’s shaking, eyes so wide they hurt. James steadies himself and takes a deep breath, focusing on what the kidnapper is saying, instead of the painful whimpers coming from Aleks’ trapped windpipe and the look of terror in his eyes.

“All we want is money, bring the money from your last heist to the location on this drive and you can have your man back.” He finally lets go of Aleks’ throat and James feels like he can breath again, “If you hurry, you can even have him back  _ alive _ .”

And then it's gone, the video cuts off with the sound of a maniacal chuckle and Aleks crying out in pain. What the  _ fuck _ .

James feels Brett’s hand on his shoulder squeeze him tighter and takes a breath, attempting to calm down. Except he can't because  _ what the fuck _ ! They’d finally been doing well and now some sick fuck has Aleks and James can’t even think of a rational thing to do other than give them the money and bring him home. 

“Okay,” Brett seems to be collecting himself, “Asher, can you do anything with this?”

“I-I don’t think so,” He's not used to seeing blood and injuries, much less on one of their own, “But I can try?”

“Then try,” He sighs, “Check the cameras and see if they caught whoever dropped this at our door.”

Asher nods, seeming to calm down with something to focus on. Brett turns to Jakob, Trevor and Joe, “You three are his back up, anything he needs you do.” 

“Lindsay and Anna,” Brett frowns, probably not sure what to do with them.

“I'll visit all our contacts,” Lindsay provides, “Anna can get the first aid room prepped and stocked.”

And with that, Brett nods and drags James out of the room. He sits them down on the couch and James starts to hyperventilate, fingers digging into the couch so hard the cover is stretching.

Brett doesn't say anything and takes James’ hands into his own, returning his death grip at a fraction of his strength. The pressure grounds James and he manages to take a few deep breaths, eyes wide and body humming with panic. 

They sit there for a few minutes and James manages to get his breathing under control, Brett still holding his hands as they sit there. “You good now?”

“Yeah,” James breathes, “I think so.”

“We'll be fine, Aleks is gonna be fine.” Brett reassures him, “We’ll get through this, we always do.”

“It's never been this  _ bad _ before,” James mutters, he hates how small and broken his voice sounds, but can’t muster the strength to fix it. “They’re gonna  _ kill _ him.”

“No they’re not,” Brett’s voice is strong and sure, “We’re going to get Immortal back and they’re gonna get shot in the ass.” James manages a laugh at that, shooting Brett a grateful smile.

“Alright,” He let's out a heavy breath, “Okay, I’m good. What can I do?”

“I’m going to call Pine for help, you’re gonna come with me and help convince Steve’s group of psychos to help us get our boy back.” Brett says as he gets up, swiping his car keys off of the coffee table. 

James grins, he fucking loves Fake Pine. The maniacal boy scouts of Los Santos that hadn’t actually  _ meant _ to become a crew, it had just kind of  _ happened _ . Sure they’re unprofessional as fuck but who in the Fake Syndicate isn't? If anyone has a contact to find their kidnapper it'll be Fake Pine, they’ve got a hand in everything.

And suddenly James feels a bit better, they’ve got a plan and something to focus on. Something to occupy the parts of him mind that are obsessed with making him relive every little pained sound that Aleks had made in the video, something that’ll bring Aleks  _ home _ . Maybe Brett’s right, they’ll be alright.


	7. Chapter 7

One little thing that James had forgotten about Fake Pine, they fucking suck at getting organized. An hour into a meeting and they’ve only really gotten Steve’s attention, even then it's split between listening to them and making sure Cib doesn’t give himself brain damage from falling out of a chair. Sure the other James is staring at them, but James is ninety percent sure that he’s been zoned out for the past ten to twenty minutes. 

Brett is getting increasingly more annoyed and as he gets angrier, Steve gets more and more nervous and jittery. Eventually James just drops his head onto the table and groans loudly, making Steve jump and Brett snort.

“What’s wrong, little buddy?” Cib slides over on his new rolling chair, vape billowing from his mouth as he talks. Of course  _ that’s  _ what gets his attention, James has to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes, more flies with honey than vinegar and all that shit. 

“I need some help, man.” James mutters, “We got a missing crew member.”

“Well,” Cib grins, “Why didn’t you say so? We can help with that, right Steve?”

Steve nods, obviously relieved and even looking impressed by James’ ability to wrangle Cib, even for a few seconds. “Yeah, of course!” He turns to Brett, “I’ll give you Jeremy’s number. He’ll get you whatever you need, and more.”

“He doesn’t like unfinished business,” And holy fuck, James actually jumps as the other James chimes in on the conversation. He’d been pretty convinced that James was asleep with his eyes open. But he’d also forgotten the number one rule when visiting Fake Pine; expect the unexpected.

“Thank you,” Brett says, “Could we count on you guys for backup if this shit goes south?”

Steve turns his gaze over to the rest of Fake Pine, Cib still rolling around on his chair and James scrolling through his phone while launching Cib across the room with his foot. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have them on standby for your call.” 

“Thanks Suptic,” James gets to his feet and stretches, “Wish you luck with them.” He gestures to Steve's crew and grins. 

The taller man smiles and shrugs, “You get used to them eventually. But best of luck with finding your guy, if anyone can help it's Jeremy I promise.”

They chat for a bit before Brett drives James home. Eventually they fall asleep watching an old action movie Brett had found in one of James’ cabinets, James hadn't been ready to be alone just yet. 

He wakes up to Brett pouring cereal into a mug and eating it while staring James right in the eyes. James laughs and gets ready to go back to the warehouse, the levity appreciated especially in their situation

* * *

 

Apparently Jeremy works incredibly fast, as there’s a package of notes and information left on Brett’s desk when they walk in the door only three days after Brett had taken them to go see Fake Pine. It has everything they need, somehow, and James is fucking  _ giddy _ . 

Thought Asher hadn’t found anything while scouring the camera feeds, he had cased the house specified as the pick up spot and he adds that to their ever growing pile of information. It's all Brett needs to start planning their daring rescue. James doesn’t usually get involved in planning, but this is different and he’s right beside Brett as they map out the perfect way to execute the plan. 

It's actually pretty simple, James and Brett go in looking like they’re going to make the deal, bringing the money with them. The rest of the crew follows them in separate cars, armed to the teeth, and Fake Pine wait for a signal nearby. Once they get inside and see Aleks, alive obviously, Brett signals Asher and the crews come in guns blazing. Everyone dies and they get their boy back, a perfect plan. And they’re doing it  _ today _ , James hates the idea of Aleks in these people’s grasp for longer than necessary.

The warehouse buzzes with anticipation as they get ready, piling guns in the back of Jakob and Asher’s personal cars, and tucking knives into sheathes and boots. Brett’s call with Steve is short lived, as the other leader has to hang up in favor of getting his crew into ‘business mode’, but they still have Fake Pine’s support and nearly everything is ready.

Brett and James leave their pistols with Trevor and pack away the cash from the heist in a duffel bag, tossing it into the back of Brett’s car. They check over everything once more and James slaps the dash once for luck, “Let's fucking do this.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seems rushed, it kinda was lol.  
> Also: саша means Sasha, a diminutive nickname for names like Aleksandr and Aleksandra

The house is in east Vinewood, smaller than most of the houses in the neighborhood but still nicer than most places in Los Santos. No one is stationed at the door, but there’s no way it’s unguarded so Brett puts on his business face and James takes a deep breath. This is the most important part, play the part of a pissed crew boss and his second in command. Something they have down to a science.  

Sure enough, a taller man greets them at the door. He frisks them for weapons and takes a knife from them each, thought there’s another in each of their shoes. They go down into the basement, which is lit by a few lamps and oh my god can you spell  _ dramatic lighting _ ? James holds back a snicker as another man steps out of the shadows, fucking drama queens.

Then he talks. A familiar thick accent washing over James as the guy greets them.

Aleks’ fucking  _ supervisor _ steps out of the darkness and gives them a sharp smile, “What, surprised?”

“What the  _ fuck _ is this?” Brett growls, hands fighting to stay at his sides, curled into fists. 

“A test,” He shrugs, “One you have failed, I might add.”

“Explain,  _ now _ .” James is about ready to pull his knife out of his boot and stab this fucker in the neck, and he would have if not for the fact that they haven’t seen Aleks yet. “Where the fuck is Immortal?” The code name rolls off his tongue like a forgotten curse, foreign and uncomfortable. 

“Ah,  _ Саша  _ is here.” His dramatic pauses are starting to push James into a homicidal rage. “But don’t you want to know why?”

Brett glances at a clock on the wall, and clicks his car keys in his pocket. All they need to do now is stall while their backup kick in the door. “Fine, tell us your master plan.” His voice drips with sarcasm and if the supervisor notices, he doesn’t comment.

“You don't seem to understand how a crew works,  _ everyone  _ is expendable.” He gestures around the room, “Me, you, and  _ especially cаша _ , traitors are the first to go.”

“Well, we’re here for our member so  _ where the fuck is he? _ ” Brett’s voice is surprisingly calm, he must be counting the seconds until Trevor kicks the front door opens. 

“Oh!” The supervisor makes a noise like a child that has forgotten something, “He’s here.” And with that he pulls a white sheet off of what James thought was a chair, only to reveal Aleks’ bloody and broken body. It takes all of James’ energy to not rush straight to his side and make sure he’s still breathing.

“Jesus,” Brett’s voice is shaking now, they’ve only got a few more seconds and James finds himself counting as the supervisor laughs, a horrible squeaky sound. 

Four. The two guards that led them down start to close in on James and Brett.

Three. The supervisor starts to gloat as a gun is pressed against Brett’s head.

Two. Brett moves incredibly fast, knocking the gun from the guard’s hands as James follows his lead.

One. Brett holds the supervisor by the throat, gun intending his forehead with how hard he’s pushing it. 

“It’s a good thing you’re expendable,” Brett says sagely as the door upstairs blows inward. He pulls the trigger and James has never been so okay with being splattered with blood. 

Sounds of combat filter down the stairs as the rest of Fake Chop and the entirety of Fake Pine greet their enemies, heavy footsteps coming towards them as Brett does his best to slice the zip ties off of Aleks’ wrists and ankles. 

The other James comes bounding down the stairs and tosses James their guns, “We’re moving them away from the front door so you guys can get out. I think they’re almost all dead, but we’re leaving a few for you anyway.”

Oh, yeah that sounds therapeutic as fuck. James grins at the other man and thanks him, “We’ll get him out to Brett’s car first, then I’ll be back to have some fun.”

He gets a nod and the other James leads them back up the stairs, Aleks cradled carefully in Brett’s arms. The larger man remarks that he’s surprisingly light as he lays Aleks in the back seat, offering to stay with him while James gets a little payback. 

There are only a few guards left, the rest being piled up in the living room by Asher and Steve as the firefight dies down. James makes his way through the main floor, dispatching everyone he comes across that isn't from their crews. He kills close to fifteen people and has never felt better.

“You guys should go,” Steve remarks, “We’ll get this cleaned up while you help your guy.”

“Thanks Steve,” James shakes his hand firmly, feeling rather sated, “For everything, I mean.”

“Fakes look after each other,” The taller man shrugs, “That and Cib and James were getting a little stir crazy, someone probably would have gotten stabbed.”

James laughs and thanks him again, repeating it to the members of Fake Pine that are scattered around the house. He gets a few ‘your welcome’ and hears the unmistakable sound of Cib’s voice call ‘no problemo’ as a body comes thumping down the stairs.

Brett is still waiting in the car, Aleks sat in the backseat with the door still open, waiting for James. He slips in and closes Aleks’ seat belt around him carefully. James shoots Brett a thumbs up in the rear view mirror and the car pulls away from the house, home bound.


	9. Chapter 9

They take Aleks back to James’ apartment, a place that King won’t know about, and Anna is waiting to patch him up. Apparently he’s got two broken ribs, a shattered wrist, a dislocated shoulder and hundreds of smalls cuts and bruises. Anna says that his breathing is unstable and there’s a possibility that he’s been waterboarded. James can barely stand to be in the room to heard all that Aleks had gone through while he was pitying himself and not doing his best. 

Just before she leaves Anna gives him a bottle of pills and instructions to keep Aleks from moving too much. So he sits at Aleks’ side for a few hours, answering worried texts and keeping the syndicate up to date on their newest enemy. 

When Aleks finally opens his eyes James nearly has a heart attack, the smaller man shoots forward as if waking up from a nightmare, which he kind of is. James grabs hold of his non-injured shoulder and gently pushes him back onto the couch, muttering reassurances under his breath and Aleks’ chest heaves. 

“Где я?” He gasps, catching James’ hand in a tight grip, “Что случилось?”

“Aleks, I don't know russian, man. You gotta speak english.” James pleads, frowning as a look of fear comes across Aleks’ face.

“Почему ты знаешь мое имя? Кто ты?”

“Aleks,’ James squeezes his hand, “Please  _ try. _ ”

And for whatever reason, that seems to get through to him. Aleks takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, remaining like that for long enough that James figures he's fallen asleep. 

Then his eyes flutter open and Aleks croaks, “James?”

“Yeah, its me.” He can't really think of anything else to say, just glad that Aleks is alive. “How’re you feeling?”

“Horrible,” Aleks groans, “But alive.”

“Well,” James let's out a relieved chuckle, “Thank god for that.”

They just kind of sit there for a few moments, basking in the fact that they're both okay. James is glad to see a small smile settling in on Aleks’ lips and his eyes crinkling slightly, he's missed that.

“Dude, you kept my notes?” James follows his gaze over to the kitchen, where the college of Aleks’ notes is on display.

“I guess,” James rubs the back of his head nervously, “Just kinda felt right.” 

It's kinda cute.” Aleks smiles, and that's when James’ realizes that the pain killers have kicked in. His grin is relaxed, eyes hazy. 

“Dork,” James can barely help the smile that blooms across his face. He frowns slightly as Aleks smiles and lets his eyes fall shut, he seems  _ really _ out of it, almost high. 

“Hey, Aleks?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened? Why’d they kidnap you?”

Aleks frowns, seeming to be thinking hard. “Dunno, but he never liked me.” James makes a confused noise. “Oh,  _ надсмотрщик,  _ my supervisor. He probably just wanted the chance to fuck with me, _пизда_ _.”  _ He makes a noise like he spit, but considering the state of his throat it's just a noise that makes James’ skin crawl. 

“So this entire thing, was just payback?” James shakes his head, King is more fucked up than he figured. “Jesus.”

“Nah, they’ll be coming for my head and yours.” Aleks says, uncomfortably calm. “We’ve disobeyed  _ короли,  _ now we pay the price.”

“Wow, you are fucking cryptic tonight aren’t you?” He laughs, exasperated and more than a little tired. Aleks giggles and James’ heart fucking skips a beat, maybe he isn't the only one whose high. “I guess I should tell you something, while we have the time. And while no one is shooting at us,” James takes a deep breath to stop himself from rambling further and soldiers on, “I really like you? In a non-friend way, and I wanna go out sometime?”

Aleks gives a soft laugh, dripping with fondness, much to James’ surprise. “Is that a question?”

“No? I mean, no.” James catches himself, face flushed what must be bright red. “So?”

“Yeah, I’d love to spend more time with you, James.” He squeezes the hand James is still holding, and smiles that bright, eye-crinkling smile. “And, if you’re cool with it, I’d like to go on an actual date with you.”

And right then, James feels his entire body malfunction as his heart melts.

“Dude, fuck yeah!” Relief floods James and he grins so wide that he feels like his cheeks are going to split. And, because it feels right, he presses a quick, nervous kiss to Aleks’ cheek. A grip on his wrist stops him from pulling away and Aleks kisses him, actually, honest to god  _ kisses  _ him. His hands are soft on James’ cheeks, holding him in place gently.

Aleks pulls away for breath, lungs doing their best to catch up. He’s still smiling as he presses his forehead to James’. “God, we’re fucking gross.”

James erupts into laughter and slips from Aleks’ grasp to fall back against the carpet, giggling himself silly over the sheer amazement of what had just happened. 

“I missed this,” Aleks remarks as James manages to calm down.

“What, kissing cute guys while severely injured?”

“No,” Aleks shoots him a grin, “Being high, but that was nice.”

“Well, we can do that shit whenever you want when this is all over, both of ‘em.” James chuckles as he digs around for the remote control, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sign me the fuck up."

* * *

 

The movie ends at nearly four in the morning and Aleks is dead asleep on James’ couch with both hands tangled in his hair. He fell asleep braiding it and James never moved, putting him in his current, rather uncomfortable, situation. 

After what feels like ten minutes of pulling Aleks’ long hands out of his messy hair, James gets up and stretches. His bones pop and creak as he moves to pull a blanket over Aleks, sounding like a human glowstick. 

Aleks is fucking adorable when he sleeps, which is unfair because he's adorable most other times as well. Somehow, despite an injured shoulder, ribs and wrist, he’s managed to tuck his arms together and duck his head between them. He’s curled up like a little kid and only stretches out when James lays the blanket over him, groaning softly as he jostles his ribs. 

James finds himself smiling down at him softly, wanting nothing more than to hold Aleks against his chest and fall asleep with him. 

He’s fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (i used google translate and then ran it through my Russian friend so hopefully there isn't any errors):   
> Где я = Where am I  
> Что случилось = What happened  
> Почему ты знаешь мое имя = Why do you know my name  
> Кто ты = Who are you  
> надсмотрщик = Overseer (A synonym for supervisor)  
> пизда = Pussy (Another synonym for cunt lol)


	10. Chapter 10

The warehouse is quiet the next morning, which James is counting on. Brett and Asher are the only ones in, Asher taking measures to reinforce the warehouse, while Brett updates Geoff on their recent adventure. Brett had given everyone else the next few days off. For James and Aleks it's to relax, and for the rest of Fake Chop it’s an apology for having them clear an entire house of dead bodies with Fake Pine. 

It's actually Aleks’ idea to come to the warehouse, James was originally planning to just laze around his apartment. They spend a few minutes getting Aleks undressed and re-dressed in clean clothes, going at a snail’s pace to avoid hurting his shoulder and ribs any further, and set out in James’ car. He doesn’t say why, just pokes the back of James’ head until he agrees to drive him. 

For some godforsaken reason, Aleks has James stop at a convenience store and grab an energy drink, which he promptly takes and chugs like a beer. James watches in awe as Aleks grimaces at the taste and tosses the can in the general direction of the recycling bin. 

“Dude, that can't be healthy.”

“It's not,” Aleks laughs, “I wanna be awake when we talk to Brett, sue me.”

“Jesus man,” James starts the car and rolls his eyes, “We could have just gotten you a coffee.” Aleks just shrugs and settles back in the passenger seat, looking smug. 

Brett greets them with surprise, and disappointment with James for letting Aleks walk so soon. He just shrugs and responds, “You try to stop him.” That gets a laugh out of them both and Aleks slaps his arm.

“What can I do for you guys?” Brett’s reclining in his chair, looking almost as tired as he sounds.

“I-uh, I wanted to ask for a job?” Aleks is already playing with his fingers nervously, doing his best to keep eye contact with Brett.

The older man laughs and raises an eyebrow at them, “What, did you really think I was gonna leave you hanging after all this? Of course you can have a job, you’ve had one since the moment you came out drinking with us.” 

“Oh, uh-thanks.” Aleks ducks his head and James swears there are tears in his eyes. “It really means a lot, man.”

“No problem,” Brett grins, “Now, go home and rest. We have shit to do and you won't be doing any of it if you don’t rest those ribs.”

There it is, the crew mom voice. The one that just cements that Aleks is one of them, no one outside of the crew ever hears it. Other Fakes have asked them what it's like to work for such an uncaring man, but they miss the little moments where Brett worries over his crew members as if they’re his own children. The moments where he has literally forced them to eat after a day of excitement, mostly for his own peace of mind, or the days where he takes energy drinks right out of Asher and James’ hands because ‘you’ve had four today oh my god stop’.

“Thanks, Brett.” James claps a hand on his back and helps Aleks to push off the wall currently supporting his weight, “I’ll keep him on bed rest for the next few days.”

As they walk away James nearly misses Brett’s remark of; “I’m sure you will.” 

* * *

 

The next few days are a blur, mostly of bad movies and a sleepy Aleks eating half his food. But James is pulled back into the present when he gets a call from Brett, voice tight and angry.

“Someone ransacked Asher’s apartment, he was at Trev’s when it happened so we got lucky. But we don’t know what they were after.” James can hear him pacing through the phone, the heavy soles of Brett’s boots clicking against the concrete floor. “He’ll be staying with Trevor and Jakob until we can figure everything out. And I want you to keep an eye on Immortal, it's very possible that this was King. And it's even more possible that they’re looking to tie up loose ends.”

“Got it, do you want us to come in?” James is already getting ready to leave, instructing Aleks to do the same as Brett muses on the answer, there’s no way that he's just going to sit on the sidelines while another of their people is threatened. 

“Uh, yeah. We’re going to need everyone if we’re gonna get King off our asses,” There's a moment of pause that instills a feeling of dread in James, “Including Pine.”

“I get it,” James chuckles, “They’re good backup, when they’re focused.”

Brett makes a noise of agreement as the vague sounds of someone yelling filters over the phone’s speakers, he sighs and says, “See you here, I’ve got something to take care of.”

And with that he’s hung up and James is left with Aleks raising a confused eyebrow, jacket half on while his other arm hangs uselessly at his side. James laughs and helps put his jacket on properly as he fills Aleks in on what Brett had said.

They’re getting in the car when Aleks sighs, “I’m sorry about all this. They’re not gonna stop until they’ve gotten you all, maybe Asher’ll be left alive because he’s useful. But the rest of you?” He frowns and shakes his head, “Not so much.”

“Don't be so fuckin’ pessimistic, man.” James offers him a smile, “We got you back didn’t we? We can handle some pissy Russian gangsters. And this isn’t your fault, we could have left you with them, but we didn't and that was _our_ choice.”

Aleks sighs but nods, “I guess, this all just kinda feels like it could have been avoided. Like maybe if I’d stuck to my orders and not talked to you and told you my name, you all would be doing perfectly fine.”

“And maybe in another life Brett’s a male stripper and I’m a college professor, anything’s possible Aleksandr. We can't change the past, so if this whole thing in one big fuck up, it's our fuck up to deal with.” He shrugs, “Besides, this wouldn’t be nearly as fun without you.”

Aleks is quiet for a moment, looking genuinely touched. Then he smirks, “That's really fucking gay, James.”

“Hey fuck you man,” James laughs, “I was having an emotional moment here and you fucked it all up.”

They dissolve into laughs as James pulls into the warehouse’s parking lot. There are a few extra cars and he suddenly remembers that Aleks doesn’t know about Fake Pine yet, that's probably something he should have mentioned. 

“So-uh, quick warning.” James offers an apologetic shrug, “Brett has some guests over, another of the Fake’s allied crews. They’re the ones that helped us rescue you, and they’re a little  _ extra _ .”

“More than you assholes?” Aleks looks skeptical, “I think I can handle them.”

James shrugs and gestures for Aleks to lead the way into the warehouse, silently hoping Steve has already gotten his crew into Business mode. 

He should have known better thought, as upon walking into the warehouse he's greeted with Cib and Trevor attempting to do vape tricks while Brett and Steve talk in his office. The other James is with them and notices the door open, waving Aleks and James over before Cib can distract them. Brett looks frazzled while Steve’s entire body screams of exhaustion.  

“Sorry we’re a little late,” James rolls his eyes at Aleks, “Someone had a craving.”

“You’re just in time,” Brett sighs, “They went after Pine too, tired to take Autumn while they were out.”

“Fuck,” Aleks growls, “They’re moving fast.”

Brett’s gaze sharpens, “You know what they’re doing? Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“Yeah, I know  _ exactly _ what they’re doing.” Aleks gestures to the pair of leaders, “They’re trying to weaken us, taking out the supports before knocking down the building. First they take the crew’s eyes, the hackers or even just non-combatant members, then they extract whatever information they can out of them. Anything they can use against the rest of the crew, significant other's, houses, even kids are fair game to them.”

“What happens next then?” Steve frowns, “If they had managed to take Asher and Autumn?”

“They’d take the second in command, people like Cib or James, it's really a show of force. Just to say that they can.” Aleks runs a hand over his stitches, “They wouldn’t ask for a ransom, just kill them in as brutal a way possible and sent the corpse to the leader.”  
“Try to break us,” Brett mutters, looking more angry than tired now.

“Yep, and lastly they’d take the rest of the crew. And anyone who they’ve done deals with, to make sure that the leader has no one left. Once they’re isolated,” Aleks shrugs, “We kill them. End the bloodline and take the territory, pretty fucking medieval if you ask me.”

His attempt at a joke falls flat as the weight of what he’s just said settles in on the room. If they didn’t have amazing luck, Asher and Autumn would be in King’s custody, being tortured for information they’d never give up. 

Brett’s jaw is clenched tight as he turns to Steve, “We really fucked it this time.”

“Yeah,” He sighs, “But we gotta finish this. If we don't, they will. And I'm not too keen on having my entire crew massacred.”

“I can help,” Aleks offers, hands tight behind his back. The look in his eyes and his stance suddenly transports James back into Miles’ garage a good month ago, holy fuck how things have changed. Instead of fear and discomfort, Aleks’ eyes are bright with determination and anger. “I know every safe house and base in Los Santos, and I know how to get in.”

“Good,” The look in Brett’s eyes makes James glad they’re on the same side, “Because we’re going to wipe them off the face of this planet, they’ll wish they’d never fucked with the Fakes.”


	11. Chapter 11

An hour later and Brett is on a business call with Geoff Ramsey while Steve and James wait anxiously. They’re drinking coffee that the other James had brought in, watching Aleks blow off steam with the rest of their crews. 

James winces when Aleks falls into a coughing fit from the vape, his lungs having not fully recovered from his ordeal despite the few days of rest and minimal talking. To his surprise, Cib seems to feel bad and offers him a cup of water. He turns to Steve and nearly snorts, he knows the look on his face. The same one that Asher gets when he watches Trevor do something dumb, and the one that he probably gets when watching Aleks.

“So, you and Cib?” James takes a long sip of his coffee to avoid laughing as Steve flushes bright red.

“What?! No! No, Cib’s just my friend.” His voice cracks heavily and James can barely help the chuckle that slips out of him. 

“Sure, you always look at your friends like a love sick puppy then?”

“I-” Steve sighs, “I’m that obvious?” James nods sympathetically. “Jesus. Yeah, we’re uh- together I guess.”

“Nice,” James muses over his next question as he sips his coffee, “How do you deal with all this? Like knowing that tomorrow we could all be dead, or in a prison cell?”

“I don’t,” Steve laughs, “Honestly, I have faith in my crew that we’ll be fine. And if that shit happens, we have a plan.” He offers James a smile, “Sure I get worried about them and I feel like a mom with too many kids sometimes, but I have faith in them. The same way Brett has faith in you all.”

“I just, I’m so worried about this all. I mean Jesus Christ they want to kill us all!” James  runs a hand through his messy hair, left out of its usual bun due to all of James’ nervous fidgeting. “And Aleks is in the middle of it all, I couldn’t even stop him from being taken by his own people. How the fuck am I going to keep him safe while an entire crew is after our heads?”

His head thumps softly as he rests it on the table, sighing heavily. Steve rests a hand on his back and rubs gently.

“Maybe you don’t have to protect him,” He says, “Maybe you just need to be there with him, to do this together.”

“Why are you so good at this?” James raises his head to stare at Steve, frowning slightly. The taller man shrugs,

“Cib’s got weird issues. James has anxiety attacks and PTSD from the last crew he was in. And Autumn’s basically deaf. I’m basically a therapist at this point,” He snorts, “I mean really, I don’t think there’s anyone in my crew that has a stable mental state.”

James turns his attention to Aleks and their crews, “Sometimes I feel the same way about our guys, to be completely honest. We do shoot people and sell drugs for a living though, none of us are sane, man.”

Steve laughs at that and takes a swig of his coffee, “We’ll be fine, James.”

“I sure as fuck hope so,” James downs the rest of his coffee and sighs.

“Good news!” Brett crows as he comes back into the main part of the warehouse, “Ramsey’s agreed to give us some new weapons, as well as having the entire syndicate declare war on King.”

“Thank fuck,” James remarks, “So, what do we do now? We’ve got weapons and the numbers, now we need the first target.”

“That's where our dear Aleks comes in,” Brett grins, “Do you know the closest King hideout?”

Aleks nods and gets to his feet, “I’ll take you right there, if we’re ready.”

“We’re ready,” Steve answers for him, “Let's go kick some ass.”

“Alright, first I need Trevor and Asher to go pick up our weapons. They’ll be in the Fake’s regular meeting spot.” Brett tosses Asher a gun and fixes Trevor with a look, “Keep him safe.”

“Can do boss,” Trevor offers a salute and they’re gone. 

“Us?” Jakob asks expectantly, arms crossed as he waits for instructions. He and Joe stand together as Brett chews his lip.

“Take Aleks and have him show you where the hideout is, case it and come back. We’ll need everything we can on it.” 

Joe nods and the trio files out of the warehouse, Aleks shooting James a reassuring look as they leave. And this time, James finds that he's not worried. Aleks can take care of himself, and he's got two other Fakes with them.

“As for the rest of you,” Brett grins, “Get ready. We’ve got an hour or so before I expect them to be done, so I want everyone ready to go before that hour is up.” And with that he leaves, ducking back into his office to pour over their rather simple plan until they leave so he can look for flaws. James knows him too well.

“Gotcha,” Cib grabs Steve’s hand and drags him off. Left behind, the other James just rolls his eyes and pulls a bandanna out of his back pocket. He ties it over the lower half of his face and settles on the couch, phone in hand as he waits.

James can only sigh and do the same, scrolling through his phone as the hour passes

* * *

 

The hour’s up and everyone’s ready, though Steve is flushed bright red and Cib looks weirdly relaxed after they come in. The other James snorts as Steve tries to slip into his business persona, only to stutter and trip over nearly every word. 

James comes to realize that Ramsey is one generous fucker when it comes to weapons. He's sent them an entire duffel bag of semi-automatic weapons, a brand new sniper rifle, and a box of expensive looking knives. 

Aleks whistles as he inspects the knives, tucking one in his shoe and another in his jacket. “These are nice, Ramsey doesn’t fuck around.”

Brett laughs as he loads a new pistol, “Yeah, that and I used your sob story as leverage.”

“Good to know I’m useful,” Aleks smiles ruefully and shakes his head, “We all good?”

After one last check in with everyone, Brett and Steve exchange nods. “Let’s fucking do this.”


	12. Chapter 12

Just as Aleks had said, the King base is small and practical. The front door has one guy out front and four inside, which he cuts down easily before waving everyone in. They split up from there, clearing rooms in groups of two.

Brett pairs James and Aleks together and he takes them upstairs. Where, according to Aleks, this particular leader will be. There are more escapes on the top floor and it’ll be easier for the leader to escape.

Sure enough, there are four rooms upstairs and all of them are full of King members. A few well-placed smoke grenades and knives later, and they’re face to face with the leader of this particular branch of King. She doesn’t cower or beg for her life, just cocks her gun and spits at Aleks’ feet. Saying, “ _ предатель _ .” before blowing her own brains out. 

Aleks snorts and holsters his gun, “Of course, she probably had sensitive intel.”

“Is everyone supposed to do that?” James nudges her body with his shoe, not entirely convinced this isn't a trick. 

“Nah,” Aleks is rooting around the room, “Only the important ones.”

He makes a happy noise and pulls a microphone from the wall, grinning triumphantly as he whispers something into it and crushes it beneath his shoe. James is more than a little creeped out by Aleks’ nonchalant demeanor, especially considering they’re currently killing his old crew. Even if they were fucked up, he has to have  _ some _ emotional attachment to them. 

“You’re, uh, taking this pretty well.” He doesn’t outright say anything, so as to not offend Aleks or trigger something bad. But the bleach blonde laughs,

“What? Murdering my people? James, I was never friends with these people. When I was first picked up off the street, the only thing I thought about for  _ days _ was running so far away that I never had to see these assholes again. Now I get to kill ‘em, it's actually pretty therapeutic.” 

“I didn’t mean anything by it-”  
“I know, James.” Aleks puts a hand on his shoulder, “Everything is fine, I’m not going to turn on you guys. I don't think I _could.”_

“That’s not what I meant, Aleks.” James can hear the pleading in his own voice, he’s not blaming Aleks, he would never. But he just smiles and gestures to the stairs,

“We should probably go check in with everyone else.”

He can't argue so James just follows Aleks down to the others. Steve is nursing a minor stab wound to his shoulder, and across from him James and Cib are kicking the shit out of a member of King. James raises an eyebrow at him but Steve just shrugs and gives an exasperated sigh. 

Not too far away, Brett and the rest of Fake Chop are gathered. Brett’s checking everyone over for injuries, slapping Jakob upside the head when he notices a bullet graze on his right shoulder. James stands still for his inspection and laughs at Aleks’ confused gaze, “Crew mom thing.”

Brett flicks between his eyes and snorts, “Don't call me that.”

“Sorry mom,” James laughs, ducking Brett’s arm. “So? Everything taken care of?”

The sound of a gunshot makes James jump, but it's just the other James dispatching his and Cib’s victim. “Yeah,” Brett rolls his eyes, “We are now.”

* * *

 

The ride back is quiet and uncomfortable, at least for James. Aleks seems relaxed, but doesn’t respond to James’ attempts at conversation. Back at square one apparently. After a few tries, James sighs and stops, continuing to drive them back to his apartment.

This hadn’t gone at all as James hoped it would. Aleks is almost as withdrawn as he had been the very first time they’d driven together, but this time it bothers James more. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. Honestly, he'd only been worried about Aleks’ mental state. Maybe killing his former gang members had more of an effect than Aleks is willing to admit.

When they get back to James’ apartment Aleks still doesn't say anything, he just lays down on the couch and closes his eyes. He's not asleep but James can take a hint. 

“I’m here if you need me,” He throws over his shoulder as he slips into his bedroom, “For anything.”

Aleks shifts on the couch but doesn't reply.

Well, fuck.

* * *

 

They raid two more King houses, all with Aleks barely speaking and acting as reckless as possible. He jumps in front of a gun twice, once for Brett and another for Steve, and gets shot again. A minor wound to his leg, but Aleks is limping around the apartment for a week afterwards. 

Any and all attempts to talk to him are ignored or brushed off with a joke or flippant remark, even when Brett tries to ask him how he's feeling. James is getting increasingly more annoyed with him, getting tired of getting the cold shoulder from the guy he’s basically living with. 

So, when they get back from their fourth King raid, James corners him in the living room after they eat dinner. Crossing his arms and standing in Aleks’ way as he tries to go to the spare room, which he's claimed for his own. 

“James, move.”

“No,” James keeps his voice level, “Talk to me.”

“I am,” Aleks rolls his eyes and tries to push past him. But the skinny Russian with multiple healing wounds is no match for James’ determination.

James holds him in place with a firm grasp on his shoulders, “Aleks, come on man. Something’s wrong, let me help.”

“Nothing’s wrong, James.” Aleks’ voice shakes slightly as he tries to force James’ hands off his shoulders, “I’m fine!” 

“Aleks,” And yeah, he’s begging now, “ _ Please _ , man. You’re one of us, we’re a  _ team _ . Please talk to me.”

Aleks freezes, glancing up at James with wide eyes. He’s on the verge of tears and James can’t help but to pull Aleks against his chest in a tight hug. The smaller man barely fights, attempting to push James away for a second before melting into the hold and letting out a shuddering sob. 

James holds tight and rocks gently as Aleks soaks the front of his hoodie with tears, resting his head atop the smaller man’s reassuringly. He's glad that they’ve finally broken their stalemate, but hates to see Aleks cry. He looks so small in James’ arms, chest shaking with sobs that are probably jostling his ribs painfully. 

He rubs a hand across Aleks’ back firmly, pulling away slightly as Aleks seems to calm. Quick shakes of Aleks’ head disperse his remaining tears and he glances up at James, “Wanna talk?”

“Dick,” James ruffles Aleks’ hair and goes to sit on the couch, patting the seat next to him with a smile. “What’s up?”

“I, uh, I dunno?” He’s playing with his fingers and avoiding James’ eyes, “It just feels like this is all too good to be true, like I’m gonna wake up and find out that this is all in my head and I’m still in King.”

“Oh,” James is at a loss for words, how the fuck does he fix that? “Can I help?”

Aleks laughs and offers James a fond smile, “Don't think so, big guy. I think I just need to get used to this, make sure everything is real and get over my shit.”

“Well,”James takes the smaller man’s hands into his own and gives them a soft squeeze, “I'll be here when you need me, whatever you need me for.”

He honestly expects Aleks to laugh it off, like he's done every other time. But this time his eyes get teary again and he pulls James into a hug, “Thanks man.”

They sit together for a bit, Aleks plays with their hands while James just enjoys the feeling of Aleks in his arms. Finally, Aleks turns to him and smirks, “I thought of something you can help me with.”

“Oh?”

Aleks pulls him down into a kiss, heated and all-consuming. When he pulls away James is out of breath and staring at Aleks in utter confusion, not disappointed confusion mind you. He grins and pecks his cheek, “Now I know you’re real.”

“Why’d you need to-”

“Cause you're so dreamy!” Aleks giggles, kissing his cheek again, he walked right into that one.

“Cheesy fuck,” James says fondly, tucking his head in the juncture between Aleks’ neck and shoulder. He feels like falling asleep, everything is okay and Aleks is in his arms, smiling. 

With the last scraps of his conscience, James feels Aleks snuggle deeper into his arms and sigh, “Thanks, James.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY SHIT

According to Aleks, there’s only one more King base in Los Santos. It's the biggest and best protected obviously, but it's the last one. They case it early on a Sunday, driving James’ unassuming car through one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Los Santos.

The base is a mansion, huge and swarming with guards. James can only make two passes of it before some of the guards start picking up on him. As they drive away Aleks suggests they stop for breakfast, partly to drop some suspicion and partly because it's early in the morning and they’re hungry.

“Is there always that many people?” James asks as they get their food, slightly worried. With that many people they'd be outnumbered easily.

“Nope,” Aleks says around a mouthful of food, “But we have been cutting their territory and numbers to shreds lately so they’re on high alert.”

“Fuck,” He sighs, “This is gonna be a lot harder that the last few.”

“Yeah well, you guys are getting good at this and I know for a fact that they won’t be expecting our mess of a crew.” James pouts and Aleks laughs, “You know I’m right.”

‘I guess,” He rolls his eyes and shovels more scrambled eggs into his mouth. Sure there’s technically two crews, but they work incredibly well as a team so it makes sense to join together. At least for now. 

They finish eating just as an expensive looking car pulls into the parking lot, Aleks spares it a single glance and frowns. “Fuck, James follow me.” He grabs the taller man’s hand and drags him to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“What just happened?” James asks, bewildered. 

“King, they followed us.” Aleks sighs, “Told you we shouldn’t have made that last drive by.”

“We  _ needed  _ to!” James crosses arms and huffs, “What’s the plan?”

“Honestly?” Aleks shrugs, “Wait for ‘em to leave. We’ll be fine, I don't think they actually saw us.”

“And if they did?” Aleks pats his back, just above the gun stashed in his waistband.

“We improvise.”

“I hate you,” James mutters as he pulls out his own gun, cocking it in preparation for the fight he knows is coming. 

“I know,” Aleks chuckles as he sneaks a glance out the door, “Looks like we’re good, come on.” 

Sighing, James tucks his gun away and follows him out the door. Just as he’d said, there’s no sign of the occupants of the King car. And it looks like the car has pulled out of the parking lot, thank fuck. Thought he's a little disappointed, a little action would be a good warm-up this early in the morning. 

“Let's go,” James tosses Aleks his wallet and starts to head out to the car, “Don’t forget to pay.”

* * *

 

The warehouse has become somewhat of a second home. Asher and Autumn stay in his office on air mattresses that Brett had found in storage, and Fake Pine refuse to leave their hacker alone so they’ve claimed the couch. How three grown men shared a single couch, one that’s actually too short for Steve’s gangly limbs, is beyond James. But they don't complain so neither does he. Trevor spends a few nights out of the week in the warehouse to hang out with Asher and Jakob, James knows it's more to keep an eye on his friends than anything but it's good to see them laughing together. It raises everyone's mood.

One night Brett remarks that he's surprised King hasn’t attacked the warehouse yet, they know exactly where it is. Aleks explains that they won't go after the home base until after the leader has been broken. Even a single determined man with the lay of the land can overpower a group of King’s men. 

James supposes that’s true, they’ve all memorized the weak points in the warehouse and know the best places to hide. It's a shit idea to attack someone in a place they know better than themselves. Which is exactly what they're planning to do, great.

Brett calls a meeting in the main part of the warehouse and they congregate on the floor, there's too many people to comfortably sit at their conference table. He spreads the pictures that James and Aleks had taken during their morning assignment out in front of everyone, sighing. “Let's get started.”

* * *

As it turns out, the other James is incredibly good at planning attacks. He maps things out in under an hour and does it all with an air of boredom and ease. James can almost see Brett’s jealousy as Steven claps the other James on the back proudly and looks to Brett for a verdict. He nods and has each team write out their role and go over it, there is no room for fuck ups in this plan. 

Brett, Aleks and James are grouped together and given the task of clearing a path to the leader’s suite. James is happy with it, he's worked well with Brett in the past and Aleks is nearly an extension of himself at this point, they work in near perfect sync.

“So,” Brett slaps their assignment down on the table with more force than necessary, “How do we want to do this?” 

“Dunno, probably with a few sticky bombs.” Aleks points out two rooms that branch off from their assigned hallway, “We can toss ‘em in the windows and save ourselves a lot of trouble.”

“Then we take the rest of them while the dust settles,” Aleks finishes with a nod, “Makes sense, thought we'll need masks if we're gonna see through all the debris.”

With a nod Brett makes a note on the assignment papers and glances at the two, “Anything else?”

James can see the wheels in Aleks’ head turning as he checks through the plan. He does a quick assessment in his own head and comes up empty, everything is planned and ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could tell you a whole fucking novel about how my laptop is the spawn of satan but that would be a waste of time lol. Just know that this fic is almost finished and the next few chapters should be coming very quickly!


	14. Chapter 14

They go right in the front door, after slaughtering the guards obviously. Aleks kicks in the heavy doors and Brett snorts at the theatrics as they lead the others into the main floor. 

Trevor, Jakob, Cib, and Steve leave the group to clear the first floor. Their shouts and gunshots echo through the house, starting the fun for James’ team. 

The moment they round the first corner of the second floor a burly man launches himself at Aleks, probably because he’s the smallest. Much to the guy’s surprise Aleks ducks under his arms and has a knife held to his throat as he’s shoved against a wall. 

“Где она?” The blonde growls. His captive glares at him as best he can and spits,

“Я никогда не скажу вам.”

“Fine,” Aleks rolls his eyes and does a quick flourish with his blade, the man slumping to the floor with a heavy thud. Brett gives a short laugh as the continue,

“Are all Russians this dramatic?”

“Nope,” Aleks kicks open another door ducks to avoid the ensuing gunfire, “Just the fun ones.”

James shakes his head as they take care of the room’s occupants, “Are we ready?”

Aleks and Brett slip on their gas masks as an answer and James follows suit, tossing them each a sticky bomb. The debris is thick and smokey, not that it affected the trio due to the masks. Unsurprisingly the room’s guards are easily dispatched by the bombs and it leaves them open to continue to the master suite and on to the  _ big boss _ . 

The door is locked, but when has that ever stopped fake chop? Brett body slams a hole in the door and Aleks and James take care of prying it open, the older man has always been fond of brute force. 

“Alright fucker!” Aleks fires a single shot into the roof and takes stock of the admittedly pretty nice room. “Come out, you know exactly what I’m here for.” He glances back at Brett and James for a moment, “You know what _ we’re _ here for.” He amends as James feels a surge of pride. 

“You will not have the satisfaction of killing me, предатель!” A woman’s voice comes through what sounds like a set of speakers, “Они здесь! Убей их!”

“Fuck,” Aleks growls as he readies his gun, “She had reinforcements, get ready.”

“James, give me a hand here.” Brett gestures to the massive table in the center of the room, made of a thick wood that could make for good cover. They flip it and the trio crouches behind it as they load every gun they have. Aleks counts his knives and lets out a frustrated sigh as he realizes that he’s short one. 

“Must have dropped it on the way up, figures.”

They don't have time to discuss it as the sounds of fighting filters through the ruined door. Brett shoots to his feet and swears loudly, pulling James up by his shirt. “They’re going after the other guys.”

Oh fuck.

“Come on!” Brett readies his gun and bolts down the hallway, all pretense of being calm and collected gone. Aleks growls something in Russian and follows him, dragging James along by the arm.

Sure enough, a horde of King men has Pine and their boys pinned down with gunfire and the occasional lobbed grenade. James strains to catch sight of Trevor and Joe, relaxing only slightly as he realizes that they’re both slouched behind a pillar near the front door. The front of Joe’s shirt seems to be drenched in blood.

“Fuck this,” James mutters, “We have to get down there.”

“Agreed,” Aleks pulls a third sticky bomb from his waistband and preps the timer. He waits a few second for it to relay the command and then whips it in the general direction of the main body of King men. 

They attempt to run as one of the men realises just what has been thrown at them, but the timer is set to only a few seconds and they’re already dead. Brett takes the opportunity and rushes the men,  shooting one on the head and taking another down with a shot to the gut, before he ducks behind the same pillar as Joe and Trevor. 

He offers James a thumbs up and returns to taking potshots at the remaining King men. Which is still a rather significant number of opponents. 

Aleks is a force to be reckoned with as he leaps over the banister of the stairs and lands squarely on one King’s back, planting a large knife in his neck as his body breaks Aleks’ fall. And fuck if it wasn't impressive, James let's out a whistle as he skips the last few stairs and plants a bullet between a King’s eyes. 

A quick scan of the area tells James all he needs to know, Brett has Joe and Trevor and they’re safe, the rest of the crew is tucked away in one of the multitudes of rooms and still taking shots at the King men, they all seem to be fine. And lastly, they’ve got an advantage.

Aleks has managed to get behind the remaining King men and Brett is brandishing his shotgun. They each shoot James a glance and he nods, let’s fucking do this.

Two men fall to Brett’s shotgun before Aleks can even slit one throat. He seems to notice and rolls his eyes, leaping at another King to sever an artery. James takes out three himself and does a quick check of the room to make sure that there are no other hidden groups of reinforcements. 

Brett comes sauntering back and offers James a lazy grin, mouth open to make a dumbass comment. Only he stops as a gunshot echoed through the entrance hall, glancing down at his bloodied shoulder. 

“Fuck me,” The older man mutters as he drops to his knees, clutching his new wound. 

“Aleks! What the fuck just happened?” James yells as he rushes to Brett’s side. 

“Fucking missed one,” Aleks grits out as he stomps on the offending man’s windpipe, “Гори в аду.” 

The man’s panicked cry as his breath is forcefully cut off is incredibly satisfying.

James turns his attention back to Brett’s shoulder, having pulled his jacket and shirt away from the bullet hole carefully. It isn't too bad, the bullet seems to have made a clean exit. Just leaving the hole and a fuck ton of blood. 

“I’m okay, James.” Brett’s shaky voice says otherwise. “I’ll drive back to Anna and get my hole checked out.”

James huffs out a stiff laugh and shakes his head, “Get Trevor and Joe to go with you. And don’t ever say that to me again you fucking weirdo.”  
“What? Don't wanna check out my hole?” Brett chuckles.

“Fuck off.” James helps him to his feet and waves Trevor and Joe over. “Can you two take him home? We’ve got things here.”

Joe nods and James takes the time to check the two of them over, Trevor has a nasty cut above his left eye and a new bruise blooming across his neck but nothing that looks life threatening, and Joe has two holes in his shirt, both seeming to be from bullets that he barely managed to escape. Other than that he only has the imprint of brass knuckles across his cheekbone in a dark purple. Nothing life threatening. 

“And get yourselves tended to,” He adds with a smile, earning him a pat on the back from Joe and a groan from Trevor. As they walk away with Brett in between them James can hear him complaining about having to get stitches again. At least they’re alive.

“James! Thanks for the save,” Steve slaps the smaller man on the back, startling him. He hadn’t even noticed Steve coming. “My guys are all okay, nothing a bandaid can’t fix.”

“I’m glad,” James shoots him a grin, “But we’ve got a problem. She wasn't even here.”

“Are you fucking me?” James raises an eyebrow at Steve’s choice of words but shakes his head. 

“We couldn’t find her, only her back up.”

“She’ll be nearby,” Aleks interjects, “Maybe in a van or another house. Close enough that she can keep tabs on everyone but not be in harm's way.”

Steve’s face lights up and he gestures for Cib to come over. “You said you saw another building on the property, right?”

“Yep,” He points in the general direction of the backyard, “A stable looks like. Why? Are we after a horse now?”

“Not this time,” Aleks shakes his head, “We’re after a bitch.”

James snorts, drama queen. Steve gets his crew ready and James reloads his pistol as Cib leads them to the stable. 

It was no fucking stable though. The inside was sparsely furnished and was full of computer monitors and crates of guns and various explosives. Sure enough, a woman was sitting against the farthest wall, pistol already pressed against her head. Beside her a computer screen displays various camera feeds and audio recordings. 

“саша.” She gets to her feet and slowly walks toward them, pistol never moving from it's position pressed against her temple, “You should never have made it this far, that is a miracle in itself.”

“I’ve never been one for stupid rules,” Aleks growls, his knuckles white around his gun.

“True, always a disobedient little предатель.” She sighs, “I should have had you killed the moment you started talking to that one.”

She points one bony finger in James’ direction and Aleks shakes his head, laughing quietly. “And you didn't, who’s the idiot now? Besides, there’s something I’ve always wanted to say to you.”

“And what’s that?” She draws closer to Aleks in what looks like an attempt to intimidate him.

“You talk way too much,” Aleks lunges forward and knocks the pistol from her hands, pushing her to the ground roughly and training his pistol on her.

“Я надеюсь, что сосать его член стоит того.” She spits at his feet and glares up at Aleks, who in turn only laughs. 

“Удачи в аду..” 

He fires twice, shattering both her knees and leaving the woman groaning in pain. Surprisingly she doesn't scream but Aleks seems happy with the result anyway. Kneeling down to her ear he mutters something and she tries to grab him angrily, prompting a laugh from the blonde. In a swift movement, Aleks slits her throat with his last knife and wipes the blood off on her shirt. 

Aleks is quiet for a moment, then he lets out a heaving sigh, “ _ God _ that felt good.”

James claps him on the back with a grin and makes a mental note not to get on his bad side.“Now! Time for drinks!” The smaller man tucks his knife in his shoe and pulls James out of the barn, the others following in a kind of awed silence. Or maybe terrified. Either is pretty fair. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS DONE HOLY SHIT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME

Brett heals fairly well. He spends a week complaining about the loss of his favorite jacket before James and Trevor pool their money to buy him a new one. Aleks inherits a large amount of money from the King’s bank account and he uses it in the most Aleks way possible, buying an expensive car and taking the crew out for a night of drinking. 

And, for once, he and James talk. Sure Lindsay ‘accidentally’ locked them in the supply closet for an hour and they were kind of forced to talk, but they still  _ talked _ . They decided that they were officially going to be dating, which then lead to the talk of how they were going to tell the rest of Fake Chop. A long, inconclusive talk.

Just thinking about it makes James wince into his beer and slump against the booth, catching Brett’s attention. The older man is tipsy, not drunk per say, but just fucked enough to have lost the majority of his grasp on the English language.

“What’s wrong, lover boy?” He mock whispers as Aleks wanders off to the bathroom. 

“What?” James does a double take, unsure if Brett is actually talking to him. But the older man rolls his eyes and gestures after Aleks.

“You aren't the most subtle human on this earth, James.” Brett seems to soften as James flushes worse than a school girl. “Have you said anything to him yet?”

James freezes, what the fuck does he say? Aleks probably won't be happy with him if he tells Brett without him, but he also one of James’ best friends. “Uh, I dunno?”

“Dumbass,” Brett snorts and shakes his head, “Say something, he won’t mind.” Oh Brett, sweet naive, drunk out of his mind Brett. James laughs and nods, 

“Remind me to tell him that later.” The older man looks confused but snorts and wanders off to harass the rest of their little clan, shaking his head at James as he goes. 

A set of heavy, warm arms suddenly encircle his shoulders and Aleks’ head settles on James’ hair. “What up with  _ mама _ ?” James doesn’t need to speak russian to know who he talking about and laughs.

“He says I should tell you that I like you,” He smiles ruefully, “You wouldn’t mind right?”

“Ugh,” Aleks slides into the booth next to him, “Are we that obvious?”

“Apparently,” James takes one of Aleks’ smaller hands into his own, “Should we tell them?”

“Yeah, better now than never. Besides, they’re so hammered they might not remember later.”

James rolls his eyes and pulls Aleks up with him, their fingers still entwined. He grins at the smaller man and cups his free hand around his mouth, “I have an announcement!”

Their group of idiots turn around and look at James expectantly, Brett raising an eyebrow upon noticing their hands. Gathering all his courage and praying that Aleks doesn’t kick him in the dick, James let's go of the smaller man’s hand and pulls him into a passionate kiss. Even dipping Aleks like they were in some cheesy romance movie. 

Their group whoops loudly and James even hears Brett yell; “Finally!”

When James finally let's go Aleks gives him a breathless grin, “Well that's one way.”


End file.
